住货车的女士

性格孤僻怪异的流浪老妇人人格分裂胆小自私的独居作家看似冷漠难处的两个人却在无形中彼此"相依"15载恶臭满天的气味 随处乱丢的大便这些常人几于不忍的事物却可以成为一个洁癖作家的生活常态曾经那样优雅美丽 一身鹅黄的连衣裙静坐在教堂的钢琴前灵动的旋律在指尖跳转本该是一生高贵优雅然而命运作弄她误以为自己肇事杀了人屈从了自己一时的懦弱胆怯却一生逃亡不定 隐姓埋名无数次的祷告 无数次的忏悔她认定自己罪孽深重 本该一世肮脏因此她拒绝同情 拒绝关心 拒绝相处怕不是因为她性格乖张只是不愿那丑恶与污秽染了旁人行之将近她沐浴更衣 梳发焕容沉浸在一室鹅黄的夕阳中缓缓移至钢琴前颤巍的双手抚摸着整齐的琴键琴曲声扬 回响心田一曲声终 洗尽铅华 她在作家即将转身离去时喊了他的名字恳请他握着自己的手她说这次是干净的最后一次带着最后的尊严和感激以自己的方式做离别的宣言然后悄然离去

其实我想说电影重点应该不是什么老太太造事逃逸然后变流浪汉在精分作家前院待了15的传奇故事吧。

重点不应该是这个电影很隐晦的讽刺了教会么？

从作家和修女谈话后意味深长的上帝画像到最后老太太去世讲的那段话，什么音乐是一种释放内心恶魔的途径，终止一切和音乐有关的东西，狡辩不能当修女，不就和之前那个修女狡辩买什么吃的那里相呼应了吗？

真正信教内心善良相信音乐会让人快乐的人却因为教父的话被赶出教会结局那么悲惨而一脸假正经的装做很虔诚却狡辩的人却可以当修女，教会的人办完丧事之后像没事发生一样反而感觉那些社工的人才感觉真心对老太太好呢，起码不会一脸嫌弃人家

谁贴的喜剧标签？

除了末尾墓地对话和升天，整个看得人苦哈哈的，哪里喜？

大概，同性恋取向和COMNST暗示的时代限定刻板印象，算个笑点？

英式幽默我不懂，但英式悲伤我太懂了。

她沦落至此的故事，应该跟原著一样用的作家主视角，给我们一些过往路标和生活片段，讲得收敛克制，不让人望而却步的同时，又保证会戳到痛处。

//真相大白时，说是天降无妄也可，但确实因为一念之差，给自己的良心戴了副铐子。

某种意义上的选择，但我绝对没有想说“自作自受”的意思，只是唏嘘。

what if她乖乖回去做笔录，事情调查清楚，她一清二白，不会被垃圾cop敲诈，不用心理负罪四处逃窜，精神紧绷、竖起戒备高墙，她可能捡起钢琴演奏，进乐团或当家教，也可能当出租车司机，起码温饱有着落、服饰干净面容整洁、生活安定。

但也很难讲她停在现场配合，会是这么乐观。

毕竟，追索她的是那个垃圾cop，即便清楚是另一方负全责，说不定看这位报警者战战兢兢，恶向胆边生，敲一笔更大的。

但起码走公开程序，有协同勘查，有申辩机会。

（不得不说，在没发生的事情上，我偏向乐观。

越是这样，也显得现实操蛋）而事情已经是这样的，只能说按照她的性格，在紧急状况下的下意识反应就是如此，不存在what if。

稍微能变动一些的，是cop，若遇见的是一个按章办事的，警告加罚款，了结一切。

屋漏偏逢连夜雨勿以恶小而为之但求俯仰无愧于天地没想说教的，但还是拐到这里。

说教对于后来者可能有用，但也有限。

事到临头，人哪能考虑这么多？

更别提还有这无处不在又无法预料的恶意。

思辨反省留给少数人，活着挣扎才是多数人。

//Tough life makes people become difficult/eccentric.按照演员和装扮变化，捋了捋女主时间线。

小时候，爱干净、懂事、不用大人操心、有小红花。

年轻时，去法国，师从名家学琴，会法语。

回到英国，进了修道院，被禁止接触音乐。

二战期间，开救护车。

然后是让她一down到底的那个车祸偶遇。

精神状态不佳，被哥哥送去Asylum监管/隔离。

关不住，跑出来，开始街区游荡的货车生活。

车祸后她所遭受的惩罚（或不幸），内外交加，远远超过了她所应当的。

不公。

尊严，骄傲，较真，用刺儿来维持摇摇欲坠的体面（不想说傲娇，这个词儿轻浮，有种不食肉糜的调调，压不住这几十年风霜刀剑蚀刻出的人）必须承认，看这部电影我是想在心里打个底。

不婚不育，异国他乡，出租屋（努力一把，自建小宅院）孤独终老，是现阶段看来可预见的结局。

我觉得挺好，但真的过起来会怎样，还是忐忑。

为了安慰自己，找来感觉更悲惨一些的经历来以毒攻毒。

看完之后，确实添加了一些勇气。

车到桥头自然直，人老了就有“爱咋咋地”的资格。

会体衰力弱、腿脚不便，但有口气、有点精神，没什么坎儿是过不去的。

最怕的是植物人、无意识或健忘症，太麻烦了。

//中产邻居们叽叽喳喳传八卦、表面礼貌内里凉薄有良心但不多，也别苛责（我自己在场，不会做得比他们好，甚至我根本没有独栋别墅的停车位，能让她停车）应是社会的活儿（福利制度）//福利制度中后期社工介入变得专业规律，但终究没有全面接手。

即便老人院那样的一揽子方案，也无法达到无微不至的效果。

（caring是一件耗时耗力的专业情感劳动，而人的情感需求又复杂多变，不是流水线一样的服务标准能满足的。

要么说久病床前无孝子、死比活容易，因为漫长的照料是马拉松，死亡是终点，死亡不可预见，照料越久越觉得辛苦疲惫。

死亡的处理，不仅比照料容易简单好多层，社会提供的关注和支持（不管是给活人还是给死人的）更是几倍不止。

）所以说作家是心最软的（bullied），lazy确实三个月变十五年开始是过意不去的好心、妥协，中间当捡屎官（字面意义，看呆我）那是无可奈何、吵也吵不过那就凑活过、破罐子破摔，后来抬头不见低头见、一段不见还想念、处出感情了//专业护工拉老太太去日托这段，泪目1 小哥帮她拉了拉裙子，包住膝盖，给她体面2 坐轮椅上被自动托举到车厢，画面是她的侧脸，旁白是作家说看到了她流浪者的高贵——————————————世界当然不会充满爱，但纯粹的恶什么时候滚出人间。

1利用她畏罪潜逃心理实行敲诈勒索的cop，是坨屎明知道她其实无辜路过，不仅没阐明事实还加深其错误认知，以此为把柄一勒索就是几十年，甚至她沦落为这样的街头流浪老太太也不放过。

他的每次出现，根本就是种精神折磨，令老太太惶惶不可终日。

他根本不缺这几英镑，目的不在钱，在要钱这个猫捉老鼠一样的过程，对无法还手之人的玩弄，是乐子是享受，是践踏更弱者的变态心理。

半夜敲窗时我想一锤子打爆他狗头2（这种恶，由纯粹之恶被人为塑造教化）拒绝Music，神父和修女，有病活活折损了一个有才华的人3开车的年轻街溜子，什么垃圾砰砰砰砸人车窗，还晃车看得我血压升高4摆地摊时，路过的小屁孩恶语相向

这部片子给我一种“阅读”的乐趣。

情节都是琐碎小事，间以一些不太重要的奇幻想象，却很有趣，引着我津津有味地看下去。

——————看完电影了——————“我居然产生了被背叛的感觉，因为自己不是第一个目击者。

”（with these fifteen years companing）←①公开的“故事”。

“既然我来了，你也不用跟自己说话了吧？

”②←私有的“生活”“怎么有两个你？

因为你有双重人格吗？

”（be in two minds，which means 'hesitate' early）③←“故事”化的生活作家和shepherd之间的陪伴是人道主义的，互不干涉的，公开的，是故事。

作家夜会演员朋友，与自己的另一个人格对话，讨论着住宅之外的老妪，应付着母亲的控制和离别，那是生活。

这对“邻居”的相处充满了调皮：耍赖似的“再推一个街区吧，我是个不知道什么时候就会死掉的虚弱老妪”；小旗🇬🇧飘扬，插在轮椅上，随坡而下，老太太天真快乐的笑声，作家慌张而谨慎地跟随；拒绝一捧不够气派的花束；对他人好心的口是心非；以及建一个电台的设想（？

）作家和男演员之间的陪伴，是看起来像communist会面一样私密的，不为所记的私人体验，是生活。

②着眼于作家他自己的话，会看到某种令人向往的舒适的公私观念，他身上有种幽默感，这种幽默或许来自他自适的心态。

（不知道是否能形成互文，shepherd的车居也很具备私密性，海报或者油漆，遮得严严实实//ps获准停在院子之后，就更加精心装饰了，女王的宣传贴纸和英国国旗。

）在舞台上独自讲述剧作这一点很有趣，同时以舞台后灯光控制的角度来转场也很有趣。

“以为是多大事儿呢！

”或许有人这样想吧。

考虑到时代因素，被修女训诫驱逐这件事对于shepherd确实是大事情，是足够摧毁弱小心灵的大事情——而这还没有完全摧毁她。

影片交代过她在皇家什么乐团里就职的经历，可见她还没完全被摧毁。

然而交通事故后逃逸却带给她无法逃脱的负罪感，这种负罪唯有转向宗教才可以获得缓解，应该是至此，她才放弃了自己的音乐和人生。

“I had music on my figertips.”不是宗教毁了她，是人借宗教之名要毁她。

“lack of obeisance”只是借口。

（记到此处应该够我回想起自己的想法吧）回想起序言：“A mostly true story.”电影选取的视角也很有意思，加入了元叙事的感觉，在提醒人以虚构的同时增加了故事的可信度。

最后老作家来看揭幕这场戏的拍摄场景，又敲出来一只套娃，很有意思。

Title: Murder by DeathYear: 1976Genre: Comedy, MysteryCountry: USALanguage: EnglishDirector: Robert MooreScreenwriter: Neil SimonMusic: Dave Grusin Cinematography: David M. WalshEditor: John F. BurnettCast:Peter FalkPeter SellersDavid NivenJames CocoElsa LanchesterAlec GuinnessEileen BrennanMaggie SmithEstelle WinwoodJames CromwellRichard NaritaTruman CapoteNancy WalkerRating: 6.2/10

Title: The Lonely Passion of Judith HearneYear: 1987Genre: Drama, RomanceCountry: UKLanguage: EnglishDirector: Jack ClaytonScreenwriter: Peter Nelsonbased on the novel by Brian MooreMusic: Georges DelerueCinematography: Peter HannanEditor: Terry RawlingsCast:Maggie SmithBob HoskinsWendy HillerMarie KeanIan McNeiceRudi DaviesPrunella ScalesÁine Ní MhuiríAlan DevlinSheila ReidVeronica QuilliganPeter GilmoreAidan GillenRating: 7.1/10

Title: The Lady in the VanYear: 2015Genre: Comedy, Drama, BiographyCountry: UKLanguage: English, FrenchDirector: Nicholas HytnerScreenwriter: Alan Bennettbased on his own memoirMusic: George FentonCinematography: Andrew DunnEditor: Tariq AnwarCast:Maggie SmithAlex JenningsGwen TaylorDeborah FindlayRoger AllamPandora ColinFrance de la TourJim BroadbentDermot CrowleyClare HammondCecilia NobleNicholas BurnsDavid CalderDominic CooperClaire FoyJames CordenRussell ToveyMarion BaileySacha DhawanClive MerrisonStephen Campbell MooreAndrew KnottJamie ParkerSamuel BarnettSamuel AndersonAndrew KnottRating: 6.3/10Oh, this one really hurts. We all know this day will come,, but how can we bid adieu to Dame Maggie Smith (1934-2024) without being inundated by an oceanic ebullition of incredulity, loss and grief? We could only commemorate her by watching her works. Here is a mini-marathon of 3 films chosen from her illustrious career spanning nearly seven decades, starting from a posho lady playing an undeterred foil to his equally posho detective husband in a shamus pastiche, to a fancy-free spinster, whose apparent romantic late blooming only drags her down to alcoholism and utter misery, then culminating as a slovenly homeless old crone, bedeviled by guilt, obstinately lives her remaining days on her own terms and en passant, she becomes an inspo for a writer who is fascinated by her heterodox way of living. Robert Moore's MURDER BY DEATH flagrantly pokes fun at the murder mystery genre and its sundry authors, corralling five world-famous detectives (a caricature of Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple, Charlie Chan, Nick Charles, and Sam Spade), and their plus ones, to a country manor where its reclusive owner Lionel Twain (Capote, in a sally into playacting) pontifically announces that there will be a murder before midnight, and taunts that none of them could solve it. Then since there are only three persons (Lionel, a blind butler and a deaf-mute and illiterate maid) are present other than the ten guests, the plot archly plays permutations to assign who is the victim and who is the murderer, while sending up the time-honored tropes and proffering flat-out implausibility to keep the detectives engaged in their heated yet utterly fanciful deductions. While some gags are zany (Guinness's unflappable tricks as the blind butler Jamessir Bensonmum are sublime and Coco's Poirot travesty has its own delightfully flaming moments), the rest of them are either facetious (Sellers's Sidney Wang rather gets one's back up for its conformable racist infelicities, after 40 years, you would think some revisionary measures could've been implemented to the denigrating Charlie Chan stereotype), run-of-the-middle (Niven's William Powell imitation and Lanchester's Miss Marple variety are relatively unexceptional, even Smith's style seems to be cramped by the outrageous goings-on) or wastefully frivolous (Falk pulls a straight face to nail down his hard-boiled Sam Spade impression). The studio-bound setting and artificial-looking mechanic props never endeavor to add any semblance of veracity to the beggars-belief yarn, which is full of loose ends - what happens to the room-swapping legerdemain?For a tongue-in-cheek spoof, it can get an artistic license to be intentionally nonsensical as long as it is able to keep its pace afloat. Unfortunately MURDER BY DEATH feels lackadaisical and cartoonish by concertinaing its twists and reveals up to the gill (flogging to death the face-changing antics). It ends up as a mere fluff, an eager beaver undermined by its own self-aware frivolity. THE LONELY PASSION OF JUDITH HEARNE is Jack Clayton's theatrical swan song, where Smith's plays the titular Miss Hearne, a middle-aged private piano teacher who moves into a new rooming house in Dublin, and is taken by the landlady's brother James Madden (Hoskins), a fresh-homecoming widower from New York City. Getting their wires crossed, Judith is thrilled by a gentlemanlike James's interest in her, while he is spoiling for a funder to bankroll his local business and under the wrong impression that she is a lady with dough to spare. Ergo, in the aftermath of the inexorable disenchantment, Judith is devastated and gets off the wagon. Her alcoholism is a secret that has cost her dearly and she tries very hard to conceal. After a complete mental breakdown and losing faith in her religion (she is Catholic), Judith is taken to a rehabilitation home to recuperate. While Clayton’s affinity for eliciting fine, resonant performances out of his cast still rules the roost and Delerue’s grand, poignant score is all too captivating, Peter Nelson's script, based on Brian Moore’s 1955 novel JUDITH HEARNE, orchestrates a fairly uncharitable picture of the Irish people. One would hope that some sort of female solidarity shall be in operation, but no, the stigma of spinsterhood turns everyone else against Judith, not least other fellow spinsters. She is subjected to be a laughingstock and can barely be acknowledged as a "woman" by the opposite sex, whether she is unwitting or not. The landlady (Kean, don't be cheated by her beaming affectations) summarily deems her as unfit for her brother as if a dumpy and hard-up James were a good catch! Even her bond with Moira (Scales), the only friend she can rely on, is marred by Judith's harsh disclosure of her true feelings. On the spear side, the prospect doesn’t look any better. Bernard Rice (McNeice), the lascivious and shiftless son of the landlady, is a corpulent swine; Father Quigley (Devlin) is sanctimonious and cannot relate to Judith’s tormented psyche. But an inexcusable mistake the film commits (even taking into account of its 1950s backdrop) is to be an apologist for the rape culture. James is unpunished for his horrific act of ravishing a young housemaid (Davies), whose flirtatious nature is implied by the film as the bane of her worse-than-death fate. The obscene sequences are more unsettling as they are boldly crosscut with Judith’s revelry in her own one-sided infatuation. Moreover, near the end, James has the temerity to touch base with Judith when he again plies the same deal without any self-examination of his misleading and self-serving actions. It is almost unthinkable that this man, who is reckoned as a charming, courteous gentleman, but cannot control his primordial urged, will break Judith's heart and be rewarded with a kiss on the cheek in the end (Hoskins, against all odds, incarnating the banality of evil with a halting resistance which somewhat humanizes James’s frailties). All those points up the author’s own jaundiced view on gender discrimination and an abortive corrective from the filmmakers, that impede the film from branching out to new audiences. Be that as it may, Smith's dominant performance makes the film eternally worthwhile. Her rendition cuts deep to the bones of a pious and piteous woman's yearning to make up for her lost time - Judith's prime is squandered by attending to her anal-retentive, bed-ridden aunt (a magisterial Hiller), her sole kin - and how precarious it is. One couldn't help but be transfixed by Smith's supernal prowess of vividly objectifying Judith's drastic emotional roller coaster in front of the camera. Her lengths of immersion into her personage are fathomless and her outpourings are originated from within her own being, never for a second, they betray any trace of deliberateness. Judith is such a precious role that permits Smith to run the whole emotional gamut from ecstasy to utter wretchedness, which she pull off with flying colors. Like Judith’s final gesture, tossing the paper out of the car window. A simple movement but potently demonstrates that she now accepts her spinsterhood with a regained strength. The whole affair is a painful lesson, which exhausts both her savings and longings, but she survives it and becomes wiser and savvier. Clayton’s film sticks its landing with a perceptible finale and Smith consummates another tour de force. THE LADY IN THE VAN is conceived out of the renowned English playwright/screenwriter/author Alan Bennett's own memoir, about Mary Sheppard (which is actually a false name), an elderly woman dwelling in a ramshackle van in the gentrified Camden during the 1970s. When Bennett moves into the area, he lets her park the van in his own driveway. Their cohabitation lasts for 15 years till her death in 1989. Starting with an oblique hit-and-run with Mary (Smith) at the wheel, the film accessorizes the main plot with Mary's own past. A lapsed Catholic nun with a flair for music, Mary's plight can be subsisted in how the Church has failed her by snuffing her talent, how she has been beset by the religion-indoctrinated guilt of an automobile accident which is not entirely her fault. She prayers like a mad for redemption and is constantly on the run, which explains why she lives in a van. Watching side by side with THE LONELY PASSION OF JUDITH HEARNE, a viewer cannot turn a blind eye on the deleterious implications angling at the Catholic church, a sign of the times that stokes the prevalence of Anglicism. If Mary's life is an outgrowth of a series of mishaps, it is her mind-her-own-business tenet shores up her solitary survival. When you really do not care about the judgments from others, you live freer and happier. That is the strength propels Mary’s life, who takes the favors from her wealthy neighbors for granted without a throwaway thank-you as if she could sense that their kindness is shrouded by the guilt. Naturally, people need to feed on other people’s misery to feel good about themselves (that’s why news report are swamped with tragedies), so in a way, her neighbors need her more than the other way around. Furthermore, the semi-friendship established between Mary and Bennett (Jennings) never reaches a boiling point. Mary’s appreciation to him is not demonstrative, whereas Bennett maintains a polite distance and takes an interest in her more for his own creativity’s sake, out of which it would germinate an essay, a book, a stage play, a radio play and finally a motion picture treatment. The film’s temperature remains consistently tepid, with Smith doing wisecracks (“It doesn’t matter whether it is distilled or not, it’s holy water!”) and bossing around in her usual carriage. The two-hander turns lopsided as Jennings is refractorily aloof, even if the film does some digital wizardry to conjure up two Bennetts (one himself, one his alter ego, the writer), mistaking a stiff upper lip for reserved emotions. With Bennett assuming the job of the scribe and his regular collaborator Hytner at the helm (the film is studded with cameo roles from the ensemble of Bennett’s 2004 play THE HISTORY BOYS, whose success is parlayed into a cinematic adaptation in 2006 by Hytner with the same cast), THE LADY IN THE VAN cannot erase the unfavorable impression that it is an exploitation and encroachment of a poor soul who just wants to be left alone, not to be ridiculed, caricatured or sentimentalized, with whom Bennett only deigns to build a connection on account of his immense sympathy (plus a strong scatological tolerance). The tawdry CGI shots of ascension is a desperate move of insincere adulation. As per usual, Smith is the saving grace, whose crinkled face conveys an indelible aura of weather-beaten sorrowfulness. When Mary finally bestirs herself to tickle the ivories, music’s soothing and healing power washes all over us and on screen there is a serene valedictory snapshot mirroring Smith’s own life on earth. R.I.P. our beloved dowager, we are forever indebted to her artistic legacy, populated by her undiminished wit, élan and pathos.referential entries: Jonathan Lynn's CLUE (1985, 5.5/10); W.S. Van Dyke's THE THIN MAN (1934, 7.9/10); James Ivory's QUARTET (1981, 6.2/10); Clayton's ROOM AT THE TOP (1959, 6.1/10); Dustin Hoffman's QUARTET (2012, 6.0/10); Nicholas Hytner’s THE CRUCIBLE (1996, 6.9/10), THE HISTORY BOYS (2006, 6.9/10).

最后在车里死亡的模样是真的牛，虽然我没有见过死者，但是那种苍白没有一丝生机的面庞很有信服力。

我觉得这些电影都是有其自信，主角都是乖张不惹人喜爱，也不屑用欲扬先抑和后期性格转变，它就是能让你理解宽容这种不可理喻的怪人，我觉得这就是他的意义吗，让我们理解宽容那些不为主流观点传统价值的人或事。

电影的展示方式也是相对沉闷克制的方式的，但是依然能感受到强烈的情感，只是没有用说的方式。

本纳特在作品中大量提起母亲，那段独角戏更是饱含情意，他用写作来与心中的母亲保持紧密联系，但是他从未对母亲有过体贴的话语，甚至拒绝母亲同住陪伴母亲， 疏离地拒绝，自我抗衡，他无法面对面对自己，躲在自己的空间里，对母亲的爱也只能深藏心底，他容忍肮脏而脾气古怪的玛格丽特又何尝不是因为灌注对母亲的愧疚和爱呢？

玛格丽特信任本奈特，所以将生命终结前的平静时光交给本奈特，但是很少说起自己，将自己包裹成一个谜，我想是什么让一位高贵典雅的黄裙女钢琴家成为一位流浪老太太，因为车祸的愧疚吗？

但是我又想这只是我们固有思维，我不能以我的想法来定义何为正常。

他们都不肯直言自己的情感，让原本的温情冷淡而疏离，只在玛格丽特死后，本奈特那“不是第一个察觉她死亡”的嫉恨才暴露他心底的秘密，渴望一段真切的关系，不是困在文字里的，也不是逢场做戏的，他没有第一个发现老太太的死讯，仿佛没能借此证明，跟世上其他人相比，他与老太太更特别亲密，因为他总是躲在自己房子里。

人们总是这样渴望又胆怯，既不敢靠近又不想远离。

可就是是最孤僻的人也向往那点温暖的陪伴，向往就改说出来做出来，走出那所房子，矛盾的内心才会在追求内心的过程合二为一。

心中有座坟墓，无论逃向何方都见不到光。

很难想象这是看完一部喜剧后能写出的话语，不过这确确实实是我看完这部电影以后的感受。

但是奇怪的是我并未因此而悲伤，反而有一颗奇怪的种子在我心里发芽，告诉我，勇敢去面对一切。

作为一部英国喜剧片我觉得这部电影是成功的，即便里边很多细节对于一个对英国文化知之甚少的人来说并不能全部理解，但是里边的许多笑点却真的逗笑了我。

这就是高级的喜剧吧，就算我不能理解其中的全部意味，但却并不妨碍我因为这表演而开心。

当然我也能在里边找到一些英国人独有的梗，比如英国国旗和女王头像，也不得不佩服英国的开放和自由，政治可以随意地拿来作为玩笑谈论。

但高级的地方在于这样的调笑并不会引误会，而且所有人都认为这无伤大雅。

影片以插叙的形式展开，一开始就用黑暗镜头下的一声惨叫交代了此时还叫玛格丽特的女主角“肇事逃逸”的过程。

时间线跳转来到了1970年，镜头跟随着男主角一起入住了伦敦 卡姆登镇的一个文艺人群聚居区。

男主是个戏剧作家，他认为作家一般都有两种生活状态，一种用来写作，一种用来应付生活。

在电影中用了两种状态下的男主互相对话的形式表现这种类似自言自语的心里描画，生动有趣，又巧妙的变现出男主的人物性格——对人对事犹豫不决，又经常自我心里斗争。

当然也恰恰是男主角艾伦这样的性格才有了后边一系列的故事。

也许是因为要逃逸，玛格丽特改名玛丽 谢普德，开着一辆破旧的货车停靠在这个街区的路边，她就住在这货车里，哪天想换地方就换一个地方停。

除了刚刚搬来的男主，整个街区的人都怕了这个没有礼貌，肆意停靠在自家门口的老妇人。

所以每每谢普德小姐以换地方就有认幸灾乐祸地猜测她会停在哪里，而一旦停在了自家门口就又要赶快要像送瘟神一般去祈求谢普德小姐离开。

而有趣的却是，即使谢普德小姐这样使人生厌，又常常为整个街区带来麻烦，但是附近的人们都或多或少地关心着她。

当然前提是他们依旧把她视为一个麻烦希望她尽早离开。

也许就像电影里男主角说的那样“他们的良知因她的出现而获得除罪”吧，谢普德小姐给了整个街区的居民选择善良的机会！

电影中有两个地方让我很感动，一个是谢普德小姐无意间走入一个小型钢琴演奏会，她本就是想进去拿几块免费的饼干就离开，可是当她听到钢琴声响起时，她缓缓坐下了，陷入了沉思，她在想些什么电影没有告诉我们，不过随着剧情的展开，我们大概能猜到，也许是年轻时演奏钢琴的美好时光，也许是因为成为修女而再不能演奏的难过，又也许是什么。

可是却都与今天的谢普德小姐无关，因为那都是玛格丽特的记忆，从选择住进货车逃离那天起，快乐还是痛苦的玛格丽特都死了，只剩下这位自囚于货车的谢普德小姐。

另一幕是谢普德小姐最后接受社工的帮助去救助中心洗了一个澡以后，昏暗灯光的屋子里只她一人，还有一架钢琴摆在那里，她缓缓坐下抚摸琴键，生疏地轻轻地弹奏了一会。

那一刻我知道，她的内心得到了救赎！

至于结局如何，我只能告诉你谢普德小姐上了天堂！

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平淡的本子 确是深深的记忆点 泪目泪目 钢琴声动听 和故事完美相融 Hold my hands,It's clean. 结尾还放大招的台词想起来看过的熔炉 最后大概有这样的话 ：我们努力生活 不是为了改变世界 而是为了不让世界改变我们。

住在货车里的老太太 本来人生轨迹是和音乐相伴 却因为时代的不可控 因为善良的人本就要比其他人活得辛苦 而落魄逃亡 将宿命寄予窄小的货车。

珍惜这个可以按照自由意志去生活的时代。

作家真的是个好人 原本的三个月 慢慢变成十五年 他和老太太相互救赎 相互关怀着 。

我们现在好好的生活着 但生命总会消逝 坦诚一点 多一点善意 总是好的。

there is no such thing as marking time and that time marks you.骗子 谁分到喜剧类的 哭太多了……

很不喜欢电影以精神分裂的作家角度絮絮叨叨地叙说这个故事（看睡着了），但是这个古怪的老太婆的形象深入我心——明明是热爱音乐的优雅的钢琴手，却在教会弹钢琴时被伪善的修女责怪“不顺从”“不配当修女”；被家人误解，关进精神病院；逃脱后，误以为自己撞死了年轻小伙子，住进货车流浪街头，周身秽物、散发恶臭，还被社区居民议论、嫌弃。

她可怜，但又倔强、戒备，不需要任何人同情和好意（“我知道！

我会！

我拿过奖的！

”）。

明明是个脾气很臭的老太婆，却在坐轮椅“滑雪”时开心得像个孩子。

作家了解了她的身世后给她带了花。

“花？

我要花干什么？

它们只会死去。

”就像热门短评说的那样，这种电影看多了会觉得心中的某一部分满足地死掉。

看后的感受很复杂，因为是真实事件改编，所以感到心塞，但很被治愈，又有点内疚（因为没有静下心去看，认为情节太过平淡，不是“爽片”）。

老太婆把货车漆成黄色一定有什么寓意，但我不知道。

“贝内特先生，握住我的手。

手洗已经过了。

”

逃避的人生 赎罪的人生 爱与被爱的人生 生活是不幸的 同时又是幸运的一生中，也许你会活在自责中，或者一直在逃避。

但是请相信世界上有善良的存在。

作家先生，也许不善言谈，但他给了流浪的老人最最温馨的晚年。

生活也许并不像你我想的那么美好，愿你我温柔以待。

这让我想起了在北二环附近白云观旁边流浪的一个腿脚不便的老太太。

老太太没有要钱，只是让我给她买了一堆吃的，从她口中得知，老人无儿无女，没有生育，而且腿脚不便，还装了假肢。

但是老人并不像剧中的老太太那般幸运，有一辆遮风避雨的破面包车。

时至今日，依然会义无反顾的帮助那些需要帮助的人，也希望他们遇到需要帮助的人的时候，同样伸出援助之手。

这是一部很暖很正能量，同时又有一丢丢荒诞喜剧风格的电影，佳片不宜错过！